Lost Hope
by crayolakid0413
Summary: What happens when all of the walls Joan is desperately trying to keep up come crumbling down? Who will be there to put up the pieces? One-Shot Warning- Mild mention of self harm. Joan-Arthur centered.


**Authors Note: I get a lot of feedback on my stories that they need to be beta'd. I don't have anyone to do that, and have stopped writing for a long time due to the negative responses I received. I have edited this story to the best of my ability. Know that you are reading this under those pretenses. If anyone wants to beta please let me know. Thanks! **

**Warning: very slight mention of self harm. Rated accordingly**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of covert affairs, however this story based on the characters is my original work.**

**One-Shot**

Joan walked down the halls of the DPD with purpose. Her soft blonde curls fell perfectly in place as her heels clicked on the hard floor. To an outsider she was a strong, untouchable CIA operative, the wife of Arthur Campbell, a woman in power, but inside she was crumbling.

She felt the stinging of tears poking at her eyes. Annie, it was always Annie. The young operative reminded her so much of herself. In the past 2 years she had watched as she endured heart ache, loss, betrayal, injury, and even an underground Russian prison. She watched her go through this emotional rollercoaster. But the difference was Annie had Auggie, Danielle, even Joan. Joan she had no one. She was the tough one; she was the one who didn't need anyone. Until now, now she was falling and had no one to catch her. Now she was truly alone.

Joan managed to duck into the safety of her office before the flood gates opened. She couldn't take this anymore. She was desperate for relief. Guilt washed over her. Cheating on Arthur, losing her colleagues, letting Annie down, everything piled up. She sat at her desk wiping away at the tears. God how could she be so weak. She was drowning. She opened the newly filled pill bottle, pouring several into her shaking hand. Unconsciously, Joan reached for the letter opener and held it against her wrist. She was no longer in the middle of her office, in the middle of the CIA, in the middle of it all. She was alone in her bubble needing a release. The type of release the pills alone could not fulfill.

Arthur was at a loss. He knew his wife pulling away. He had seen her sneaking around with Seth. He could feel his blood boiling as he thought of her going back to him, after everything they had been through. How could she do that? She was having an affair. That was the only explanation for her behavior. At least the only one he could think of. This was not going to happen. He was not going to let that low level, blood sucking lawyer get his wife. He was not going to lose his chance at the position he always wanted. No he was going to go and give his wife a piece of his mind. This couldn't wait until they got home. This had to be dealt with now. He stormed out of his office and barged into his wife's office without a second thought. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

Joan twisted the sharp object in her hand. The tears blurred her vision. She began pressing it against the soft skin of her arm allowing the warm blood to flow freely down. The relief was instantaneous. She allowed her eyes to close, her mind to drift to a happy place. She felt something she had almost forgotten, contentment.

Arthur was fuming when he threw open the door. The bloody scene in front of him almost took his breath away. He quickly locked the door behind him and ran to his wife's side. His fingers were pressed on her neck in a matter of seconds. The soft thumping brought tears to his eyes. She was alive.

"Joan, Joan, can you hear me?" Arthur said shaking his wife's shoulder. He grabbed a shirt off the table near by wrapping her arm tightly.

"Joan, please I need you to open your eyes. Please I need you." Arthur begged. He took in her appearance. The tear stained cheeks. The half empty bottle of pills, which was clearly refilled just the day before, his wife was broken.

"Hmmm, hmm." Joan moaned softly.

"Joan, Joan sweetheart can you open your eyes for me?" Arthur begged.

"Ar, Arthur? Wha, What are you doing here? What, What happened?" Joan asked, trying to get her bearings.

"Sweetheart you're okay. You're going to be just fine. I need you to try and sit up okay. That's it Joan, nice and slow." Arthur coaxed.

It was breaking his heart to see his wife shattered. She was so strong. He saw her acting differently, pulling away. He was prepared to beat Seth silly, to yell at Joan and demand she stay faithful to her marriage, but this, nothing could prepare him for this. He had to get her out of there. If anyone knew her career would over.

He quickly cleaned up the blood and put her desk back into its normal immaculate perfection. Her arm would need stitches, but he could do that discretely enough. Arthur put the suit jacket back on his wife and dialed his assistant.

"Midge, Joan and I will be unavailable the remainder of the day. Please defer all issues. Joan is not feeling well and I'm going to take her home myself." Arthur stated.

"Yes sir. I understand." Midge replied.

A few hours later Joan was tucked safely in her bed. Her arm had taken 4 stitches to close. But Arthur had been assured it would not scar, and was not a life threatening injury. How did they get here? How did he miss the signs? His wife was pill popping and cutting. She was self destructing and all he could see was red.

Joan felt warm and calm. She wasn't sure where she was but she knew that she happy. Her eyes felt heavy and there was a strange throbbing in her arm that she couldn't quite place. She slowly opened her eyes taking in the light of the room. She was home in her bed. How did she get there?

"Joan, Joan sweetheart you're awake, thank god." Arthur exclaimed. He brushed his fingers slowly against her hand. He could have lost her today. He almost lost her. The thought brought tears to his eyes.

Joan took in her husbands tear stained face. Suddenly the events of the day came pouring back. The overwhelming feeling of guilt, the pills, the letter opener, work, oh god she was at work. Joan sat up quickly. Panic spread across her face.

"Arthur, I, I can, um." Joan struggled to get the words out. She wanted so bad to find out what happened at work, to explain her actions. She knew he would be discrete. This lapse in judgment was just as dangerous to him as it was to her. How could she be so stupid and so selfish?

Arthur watched silently as the array of emotions played across his wife's face. He watched as her mind tried to process her surroundings, to understand how she ended up at home, safe in her bed. He wanted to answer, to put her mind at ease but he found himself speechless. So he simply leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. He took another minute to collect his thoughts. He knew that he would have to be strong. His wife needed him and he was not going to let her down.

"Joan, it's going to be okay. I promise you that we are going to get through whatever this is together. I love you more than anything. You are not alone. Do you hear me?" Arthur asked holding her shoulders so she was forced to look into his eyes.

That was the final straw. Her husband took her home; he left the office, left work behind for her. He would truly do anything for her. The walls crumbled suddenly opening a flood of tears. Joan let her husband hold her while all of her insecurities, guilt and pain poured out. This wasn't going to be easy. But for once Joan didn't feel alone, she felt loved.

In that moment as Arthur whispered sweet things into her ear, hope was renewed. Joan Campbell knew she was going to be okay.


End file.
